


Historiarium

by Main_Side_Character



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Main_Side_Character/pseuds/Main_Side_Character
Summary: A collection of oneshots I write for Fairy Tail, featuring various ships. Nothing's ever going to get mature, although the length of stories might vary. Hope you enjoy them!





	1. Bars and Phrases

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It's been a while since I've written plain fluff, and I'm using this mini-series to practice...hopefully I'll get good enough to make you swoon someday ^^" 
> 
> Do leave a comment if you liked the story/ hated it/ have some feedback. I'd love to hear from you!

All it took was a slight waver in his voice, a nuanced _this-is-me_ amidst the _what-do-you-see_ , and Levy knew she’d lost herself to him, perhaps forever.

Gajeel continued singing upstage with his eyes closed, completely oblivious to the stupid smile plastered across Levy’s face, as she listened to him sing for the umpteenth time that Friday evening. She’d made it a point since the first time she’d heard him to attend his performances every single week, and yet somehow, each time he sang, it felt like she was hearing him for the very first time. Each song felt like a confession to which each word felt like a clue, and the more Levy tried to put the pieces together, the bigger she realized the puzzle really was. And even though she couldn’t really see the entire picture, in the end it didn’t really matter, for it was in the silver linings and dark corners she found parts of herself scattered too. 

A tiny blush spread through her cheeks as she realized Lucy was smirking at her from the next table. Usually she’d brush it off and act nonchalant as her friend insisted she was crushing over the guy, but as it dawned on her that she’d been searching for him recklessly between the lines, her heart did a little somersault and pushed her to admit it was true.

Here she was, Levy McGarden, proud reject-ee of many a smitten college boy, falling head-over-heels for a guy she’d never really talked to, yet knew like she did her favorite book.

Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest, as if she was at the top of a really high rollercoaster gathering its speed as it began to drop. She felt like she was going to explode, out of panic and out of joy. Had she just claimed to know this boy? Never in a million years did she plan on saying it out loud, but to even allow such a thought to cross her mind…who did she think she was? And yet, at the same time, why hadn’t she allowed it before?

The deafening clapping of the audience around her dragged her out of her thoughts almost immediately. The song was over, and the host climbed up the stage to commend Gajeel on his performance, the last for the night. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring right at her, before smiling timidly and looking away. Levy’s stomach fluttered as she smiled back and looked away. This could be the start of something new. She knew it.

That is, if she could muster the courage to talk to him.

“Hey Lev,” Lucy snickered as she slid into the chair beside Levy’s. The bluenette, who’d been sitting on a barstool near Lucy’s table as the latter was on a date, groaned as she realized a horrible line was about to hit her square in the face. “Are you a holding a huge-ass orange soda bottle big enough to go to Mars and back, ‘cuz it looks like you’ve got a crush and you know it.” “Are you sure _you’re_ allowed to say that, given your…situation?”

“At least I’m not the one drooling over a guy I’ve yet to talk to.”

“I’m working on it!”

“Sweetheart, you’ve _been_ working on it. For three months now.”

“Says the girl on a date with a guy she liked for a two whole years before asking him out.”

Lucy simply stuck out her tongue in response, to which Levy began laughing uncontrollably. So much so that she didn’t even notice the long-haired man approaching her till he tapped her on the shoulder. Lucy glanced at him before smiling at Levy rather knowingly and excusing herself. Levy turned around, wondering who it was, and nearly dropped dead when she saw who it was.

Gajeel, right before her. Up this close, she could see everything about him. The metal piercings, the curls in his hair, the tiny scar underneath his chin, the crooked smile…

“Hey! Uh, I’ve seen you hanging around here a couple of times, and I was maybe wondering if you wanted to…”

Levy tried hard, and failed miserably, to hide her smile as his gaze darted from her face to the corners of the room to the bar to back to her face to - 

“I’d love to.” 

Maybe it really was as easy as that.


	2. May I Have This Dance?

  Soft music cast a shadow of enamour across the entire store. Two voices, one a sharp falsetto and the other a low bass, twisted around each other like fresh wisps of smoke emanating from a cigarette. Where one fell, the other peaked. This was the song of a first date, Lucy mused, maybe even the song of a first kiss - two hearts hopelessly intertwined, fumbling against unsure footing and nervous glances, hoping to meet somewhere in between. This was the song of sunlight on morning smiles and moonlight on another's skin, of how the princess fell for the pauper, of heartbreaks bittersweet. This was the song of a hundred tales, meant for none yet meant for all. A piano cued the two voices on, and the sound of raindrops hitting the windows gave it a slow but steady beat.

        Everything just felt  _right_ , like this particular song had been written for this particular moment. Who was she to say it wasn’t so? After all, our feelings can be our own and still be shared by others. A small smile stretched across Lucy’s face, and she began humming along. There was something comforting in the thought of universal emotion. A reassurance that another could, indeed, feel the same way.

       As if on cue, it was as this thought truck her mind that a hand grabbed hers from her table and pulled her to her feet. A very familiar hand, belonging to a very familiar pink-haired mage with a very familiar grin on his face. 

      “May I have this dance,  _Ms. Heartfilia_?”

      A faint blush coated her cheeks as his request slowly registered. Maybe this song had been written for this moment after all. Maybe it’d been written for  _them_.

     “Of course.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy guess who’s back from Writer’s Block?  
> Not me rip, but whoever they are, I’m happy for them.  
> In the past week I’ve only managed to churn out one good paragraph (sigh), but one is better than zero, so that’s improvement, right? Right? RIGHT?  
> *Ahem* anyway, as luck would’ve had it, that paragraph didn’t really go with what I was trying to write, but I liked it a bit too much, so I turned it into this tiny ‘lil fic. I’m not the best at writing fluff, but I like to think I’ve improved at least a bit. Do comment if you liked the story, the validation would be nice ngl (lol). Hope you enjoy it!


	3. Droplets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bora decided he'd had enough of the rain, and Juvia's heartbroken.

It’s raining in Magnolia. Fiore had been suffering from quite the dry spell as of late, so most of its residents, especially the farmers at the country sides, are bursting with glee. Crops which were all but dead have been given a second chance, one the farmers’ piggy banks will thank the heavens for. Families hit with heatstroke from the sun’s merciless tyranny will start feeling a bit better tomorrow. Children who’d been stuck inside their homes this uneventful summer will be playing in the puddles on sidewalks soon. 

It’s like being hit by the love bug, only to be cured with a sweet kiss. To some extent, it’s like all of Magnolia can breathe again. The entire city is rejoicing, unaware that it will be treated to heavy showers for the entirety of the week. Like royalty. 

She bites back the urge to let out a bitter laugh. It seems like everyone else’s happiness always comes at Juvia’s expense.

_Drip, drop. Drip, drop._

Drenched fully from head to toe, she walks without caring much for where her feet are carrying her, till she lays her eyes upon a certain old yellow painted building. A sign hanging from inside the store says it’s closed, but Juvia stands before it anyway, frozen in place. 

It’s just like it’s always been – a worn down family Bakery, passed on from generation to generation along with its most successful recipes. Two fancy black and beige sets of tables and chairs sit at either side of the door, giving it a slight café feel, and pots of bright, beautifully colored and maintained plants are seated right behind them. Through the windows of the store Juvia can spot rows and rows of delicious pastries, and is sure if she concentrated hard enough, would even be able to smell them too. 

A small smile slips past her and ghosts her lips. This building was – is – Juvia’s favorite. Her home away from home. Her most trusted ally. Back when they were still alive, her parents would bring her here whenever one of them needed cheering up or wanted to celebrate. 

“An unsatisfied tummy makes a person crummy,” her father would jokingly tell her, smiling when she giggled at her mother’s bemused reaction. And if Juvia was still tiny, he’d pick her up and hoist her on his shoulders, before kissing her mother on her cheek and opening the door for her. He’d beam at her brightly, and she’d chuckle at his expression, or even stick her tongue out if she was feeling really mean. And then they’d all laugh and enter the shop, and buy something that smelled delicious, and relish it outside at the café like tables. 

Back when they were still alive, Juvia was still happy. Now they’re gone, and in a way, so is she.

In hindsight, it was a well thought-out plan Bora had thought up to trick her. He was always there, lurking somewhere in the corner, eyeing her with something worse than envy, thinking, scheming, plotting. 

Mocking. Fooling. Disparaging. 

Bora.

_Drip, drop. Drip, drop._

It suddenly dawns upon Juvia that she’s crying. Salt water tears have mixed with rain water droplets, and washed her face of any indication she’s in pain. But she feels it, deep inside, and it’s worse than when all those mean kids made fun of the rain clouds around her head; the ones they caused, mind you. It’s worse than when she invited those ‘nice’ girls over for her birthday, naïvely believing they’d come out of free will, only to have them ridicule her precious teru teru bozu dolls. And in a way, it’s even worse than when her parents her died.

That day she’d felt like her life was over. And sure, for a while it did feel like it, but then came Bora, in his deceitful, insincere hero-like kindness, to save her from the mean kids and make her laugh. To be her friend, and something more. To somehow actually, unequivocally, make her believe that someone would – someone could – love a girl like her again. 

She remembers that day like it was today, like everything had happened this morning. He was wearing a black formal button-down shirt, and she his red, slightly-larger flannel shirt over a black dress. She remembers because she’d dressed up just for him. And because when the winds had picked up and chilled her to the bone – because she’d forgotten to look at the day’s weather, like a klutz – he’d draped the red shirt over her for safety from the cold. And because he’d smiled sweetly at her before opening the door to this very bakery, pushing her forwards with his hand on the curve of her spine. And because she’d stuck her tongue out at him. And because they’d laughed.

And because they’d had fun. And because she’d felt wanted. And because he’d later whispered in her ear, voice thick but sweet like honey, _“I love you, Juvia. There’s nobody else like you, Juvia. Sure, you bring rain, but with it you bring the most beautiful rainbows too. Tell me you love me too, won’t you Juvia?_ ”

_Drip, Drop. Drip, Drop._

She feels like a fraud for admitting it, even to herself, as she stares at the pastries inside the bakery store. She still loves him. He broke her heart. He doesn’t love her anymore, he never did. But she still loves him. 

How is it possible to love so much the blade that carved its name on your skin and left you out to bleed alone?

She’s trembling. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Somehow, despite being beyond completely drenched, she’s also getting clammy. Her chin begins to wobble ever so slightly, and before she knows it, she’s dropped to her knees in front of this old, worn down family Bakery that’s been passed on for generations now. She’s sobbing. 

What was it that Bora called her? Pathetic? Weak? Shameless and undignified? She sure feels like it now.

This time the bitter laugh comes unsuppressed, scalding in the freezing air. He said he loved her for the rainbows, but resented her for the rain. She lets herself wonder why he’d ever bothered spending time with her if it was like that. Her mind plays with the possibilities till she can no longer deny the truth. The oft ignored boy grew up seeking power over others. And who better to command than the girl the others shunned?

He’d only ever snickered about them to her anyway. He’d only ever appreciated her when she snickered back. One evening of open affection was all she’d ever gotten. Oh, how could she have been so blind?

The rain intensifies. The sound of Juvia’s sobs are drowned by raindrops hitting the pavement. The cold is a comfort she doesn’t want. 

The children are finally playing outside, buried deep under thick raincoats and sweaters. Screams of glee echo through Magnolia, a welcome sound after months of silence. In one corner of the city, a charming young man with long, wet hair scowls at the rain as he rushes to his date. At another corner, an adventurous young girl hauls her luggage about, wondering if the weather hates her for running away. Near the country-side a blue cat picks up rumors about a certain mage roaming around at Hargeon, a neighbouring city. The world has finally picked up its pace again, and things are about to get interesting.

But at the heart of Magnolia sits Juvia, all alone once again.


End file.
